Category: Faith

  • Santa Claus and Poopgate

    Christmas joy filled the air. Ornaments glistened, smiles radiated, and lights twinkled. Santa awaited … well would await (WAIT emphasized) in a matter of several hours. My daughter Sydney eagerly anticipated this year’s visit while our two year old Jenson hesitantly checked out the man in the red coat from a distance and shook his head no.

    We put in our name (and cell phone number). They would text us once our spot to see Santa opened up.

    With our name in the cue, we headed to PF Chang’s for our annual family dinner to celebrate my brother’s birthday. Visions of fried green beans and spicy Kung Pao Chicken danced in our heads.

    We got everyone settled, placed our order, and enjoyed a lovely “no-drama” meal. After eating, I excused myself to the restroom. Sydney and Jenson excitedly declared they wanted to come too like travelers going on some great adventure. Such is a mom’s life with kids four and under.

    I lifted Jenson from the high chair and walked with the kids towards the restroom.

    Being a party of three, we opted for the larger handicap stall. Inside the stall, I noticed the changing table pulled open. No biggie, easy fix. I pushed it up and watched as it folded to a flat surface back on the wall. I sat down to go to the bathroom. And that’s when I saw it…

    “Don’t move. Stay right where you are,” I adamantly declared in my stern mom voice.

    A huge piece of poop sat under the changing table. It must have dropped from the changing table when I pushed it up.

    Completely grossed out, I willed myself to keep it together and keep the kids away from it. What kind of disgusting person leaves a chunk of poop in the bathroom at PF Chang’s?

    I stood up from the toilet only to discover it wasn’t contained. A big piece somehow made its way on my sweater too. I carefully peeled off my sweater only to see another layer on my shirt. Could this get any grosser?

    I did my best to wash it off in the sink to no avail. I was up a creek with no clean shirt and Santa’s text coming at any moment.

    I needed help (as did the handicap stall we emerged from), so I headed to see the manager of the restaurant.

    “So… there’s a huge issue in the restroom. It needs to be cleaned. Some disgusting person left poop in the stall. It must have been on the changing table when I closed it. It’s on the floor and everywhere. It even got on my sweater and shirt. I can’t believe someone would do that!”.

    The gracious store manager apologized. She even gave me a card to dry-clean my clothes which she offered to reimburse at their expense.

    “I just can’t believe someone would leave poop like that,” I shook my head in absolute disgust.

    “You’d be surprised at the type of stuff we see,” she shared.

    “I have one other problem. We are about to get texted for our place in line to meet Santa. I can’t wear this,” I pointed to my brown stained shirt. “Do you happen to have a t-shirt or anything I could use and return?”

    The manager headed towards the kitchen. She emerged with a PF Chang’s server shirt. “Keep it,” she offered.

    I thanked her, took the kids back to the table, and headed back into a clean stall in the restroom to change. Once back at the table, I shared the whole crazy story as we settled up the bill. My phone pinged with the Santa text letting us know we had a few minutes to get there or lose our spot.

    As we prepared to leave, I lifted Jenson again from his highchair. He walked with my mom towards the door. Then, I looked down at the sleeve of my new PF Chang’s server shirt and saw it. More poop. You have got to be kidding me…am I being punk’d?

    My dad had a light bulb moment. He hurriedly sped after Jenson who was making his way out of the restaurant, grabbed the back of Jenson’s pants to peek inside his diaper, and let’s just say dad got a little more than he bargained for. As we walked down the steps of PF Chang’s racing to meet Santa, I realized … I am the disgusting person who leaves poop all over the bathroom stall.

    Life is full of surprises. Sometimes entirely different storylines are happening that we can’t see on the surface. Things aren’t always as they seem. We all could use a little less judgment and a lot more grace.

    After all, the gift of grace is what Christmas is all about. A free gift we can all receive.

    But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift.  – Ephesians 4:7

    May your Christmas be filled with grace and love.

    PS: Pray for me as I swallow my pride and head to PF Chang’s on Dec 23 and re-live the annual story of Poopgate 🙂

    PSS: Click here to never miss a post. Feel free to share this post with anyone in need of a good laugh or a little grace.

     

     

  • How My Husband’s Mid-Life Crisis Car Saved My Life

    This car was never supposed to happen.

    I still remember the day my husband Doug broached the topic.

    “I really want to get a fast sports car.”

    Doug has always been a bit car obsessed, but a two-seater for a family needing at least three seats? We were definitely outside the practical zone.

    I had just come back from a meeting where a psychologist talked about how our brain works in our teens, 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, 50’s. And on the list for men in their forties, mid-life crisis zone: fast sports car.

    “Babe, I don’t think a 2-seater sports car is right for us. We’ve got college to be saving for and other expenses right now,” I replied in a firm tone still trying to figure out if he was testing the waters or whether it had turned into a full blown obsession.

    “But I really want this car,” he countered back. It was definitely an obsession.

    “You know what… I’ll make you a deal. If you can make enough outside of our normal monthly income after tithing and taxes to buy the car outright, you can get any car you want.”

    He agreed. Decision made. Big relief. No chance of a flashy sports car entering our future.

    Nine months passed. I remember sitting at the desk in our home office when Doug came in the room.

    “So what color do you want to get?”

    I looked bewildered. “What do you mean?”

    “I mean, we can get the car babe! I had an investment come through, and we can get the car. What color do you want?”

    I sat shocked. This couldn’t be happening. It was the impossible challenge. The one that could NEVER be achieved. But we had made an agreement. And he achieved the impossible. There was no going back now. A super charged sports car would soon be in our garage.

    He picked a red convertible. Oh my.

    “The Cat” as Doug liked to call it started with a roar followed by a purr. I had to contain my eye rolls and head shaking in disbelief each time he started it up. I had only driven it a couple times so when our friend Therese from Australia visited, she and I decided to take it out for a spin on a perfect Sunday afternoon.

    I put the convertible top down, and we headed out. Our hair blew in the wind giving that carefree feeling as we cruised down the road in this powerful machine. We decided to get on the freeway and head to Costco for a $1.50 hot dog.

    I was driving in the center lane cruising close to the speed limit. As I glanced down for a split second at the radio and pushed a button to turn the station, Therese said, “Mate, look up.”

    A sheet of plywood the size of the entire car was moving at 65 mph and coming right for us. The car hauling a trailer in front of us hadn’t tied down their load. The wood caught air and in seconds would be landing directly on top of our heads.

    There was no going forward.

    I did the only thing one can do when faced with decapitation by a flying wood board the size of a queen size mattress. I swerved abruptly to the left lane marveling at the quick maneuverability of a car that never should have been a part of our life.

    The sheet of wood missed the car by less than 2 inches as it slammed to the ground. If I’d have been driving our SUV, we wouldn’t have made it to the next lane in time. “The Cat” saved our lives.

    A song about God’s amazing grace played on the radio as I said, “Isn’t that the truth?”. My friend and I looked at each other shocked replaying the unexpected minute our lives almost ended forever. It wasn’t our time to go.

    That car came and went in our life in less than a year – whew! prolonged mid-life crisis averted – but the memory of that day remains. You never know when your time may be up. Only God knows. It could be after a long battle with an illness. It could be at the end of a long and well lived life. Or everything can change in a split second.

    “When it’s time to die, let us not discover that we have never lived.”     – Henry David Thoreau

    How would you live differently if you knew today would be your last day?

     

     

     

     

     

  • Faith Over Fear!

    Hello friends! Today I’m excited to introduce you to my amazing writer and speaker friend Jennifer Goebbel. She is a mama of three girls and one boy, married for 19+ years, and has a God-given gift to teach (I love listening to her speak and marvel as she brings the Bible to life in new ways) . She is guest posting today on the blog, and I just know you’re going to love her as much as I do. Enjoy today’s post and check out more on her website and blog.

    Have you ever heard a child crying from inside a public restroom?  Well, truth be told, I or some other Mom or Dad might have been on the inside…whispering loudly, “Please stop crying, please?!” horrified that our child was so upset about using a self-flushing toilet.

    So, I’m actually speaking from experience here…my sweet, kind hearted daughter has been afraid of self-flushing toilets ever since she was old enough to go potty in public restrooms.  And since she is so very afraid, she cries as if you are trying to hurt her!  Oh. My. Word.  Lol.

    Honestly, I felt like I had tried everything.  I had tried covering the sensor with my hand, covering the sensor with a piece of toilet paper, physically hovering her over the toilet while I held her!…and I tried rationalizing, with a 4 year old – guess how that went?!  Nothing worked.  She would either hold it for hours on end…or she would cry very loudly and say “No, I can’t do it!” all because she was afraid it might suck her down with the water or even worse, splash her.  [Can you feel my pain here?!]

    Until the day I realized I was approaching it all wrong.

    Literally standing there in the restroom stall that day…the Holy Spirit reminded me what the Bible has to say about fear:  2 Timothy 1:7a  “For God did not give us a spirit of fear…”

    And I stood there in that stall that day and had a conversation about fear with my sweet, crying, then 7 year old.  “If God says in His Word that He doesn’t give us the spirit of fear…then do you know who that spirit is from?”  She quietly answered “the enemy?”.  “Yep, fear is from satan.”

    She thought about that for a little while and then I asked her, “So, do you know what God does give to you?!”  “No, what?”  She was pouting a bit now…arms crossed and dancing a bit, because she REALLY had to go to the bathroom!  Lol.  Oh. My.  Heavens.

    So I finished the scripture for her… “Sweet girl, God gives you the spirit of power, of love and a sound mind!  You have God’s power working on the inside of you.  He makes you strong, He gives you peace…you can do this!!”

    She did go on that self-flushing potty that day, but it took a lot of time.  And I’ll be honest, it has been a journey for her.  As of today, she is finally able to use them without being afraid, but not without hesitation.  BUT, you guys, it brings her such JOY every time she conquers that fear!!!  Once fear was exposed as NOT being from God, she was able to process her emotions differently.  She was able to…little by little…start making decisions to trust God instead of letting fear control her.

    And this is SO much more than a story about a little girl being afraid of self-flushers.  It’s really for all of us.  I don’t know about you, but fear tries it’s hardest to sneak into my life.  It has been there when God asked me to do something new [fear of failure], it has showed up in my relationships [fear of not being good enough], and it even shows up sometimes when I try to talk with people about Christ…[fear of rejection].  BUT, once it’s called out for what it is…that it’s not something from God, but from the enemy…then, you can deal with it.  Then you can rely on scripture and speak to fear!  You can say, out loud if you want to, “I am filled with Jesus.  And He gives me power, He gives me a sound mind, He gives me peace…I am filled with His love.” 2 Timothy 1:7

    Faith over fear.  Sometimes it’s a journey, sometimes it’s instant.  But I want to encourage you, give your fear to Jesus, let Him replace it with peace…just like my daughter decided to do.  Remember this story, of a scared, sweet little girl who was paralyzed with fear and anything but peace.  And remember God’s very same promise is for you too!

    Enjoy this post from Jennifer? Page down on her website and subscribe to get future posts sent directly to your inbox.

  • Close Encounter In An Airport Bathroom

    It started off as a typical Thursday afternoon after a week of business travel.

    Turn in rental car. Schlep barefoot through security checkpoint. Bra wire pat down by female TSA agent. Board returning flight. Stow bag. Insert purple earbuds. Listen to chill music while gazing out airplane window. Land at DFW airport and taxi 15 minutes to gate. Grab carry on bag. Head up exit ramp. Stop in airport bathroom before picking up car (because everyone knows rush hour traffic plus no bathroom break equals no bueno).

    My black Samsonite bag glided on the speckled tile floors as I made my way through the crowd to the bathroom. Surprisingly no line. I headed into the first open stall.

    As I exited the stall, I saw her. Her eyes darting around in a panic. The look of complete emotional despair bubbling like a volcano about to erupt. The line had grown a couple people deep. She shuffled back and forth trying to keep her composure for just a few more minutes.

    I rolled my black suitcase by her towards the sink and soap.

    Then, I heard an abrupt rattling of each bathroom stall door. Rattle, rattle. Rattle, rattle. Rattle, rattle. Her brain desperately in search of a bit of privacy so she could let herself fall apart.

    With each rattle, rejection. This stall is taken.

    It couldn’t be contained any longer. She hurled herself in the back corner of the bathroom and let out a wail of despair. Sobbing echoed throughout the entire bathroom coupled with an eerie, reverent quiet.

    As I washed my hands with warm water and soap, I prayed God would have mercy on her. God, I don’t know what this woman is facing today, but I pray you will comfort her. Help her to remember she is loved and not alone.

    That’s when an impression so strong emerged, I knew it could only be from God. Go tell her she is loved and not alone.

    Uhhh…God, can’t you see this woman wants to be alone – hence the rattling stalls and attempt for some privacy? I’m not sure some stranger delivering a message right now is a good idea. You sure about this?

    Go tell her she is loved and not alone.

    I finished rinsing the soap off my hands and headed towards the automatic paper towel dispenser with uncertainty in my spirit. Who wants to be the crazy lady in the airport bathroom who invades a stranger’s semi-private corner meltdown moment?

    So I did what any God honoring somewhat hesitant person would do and headed towards… the exit door. Times when I’ve heard God and ignored it flashed through my brain in a matter of seconds. Regret. I still wonder what could have happened if I’d listened and followed through.

    After several steps towards the exit, I found myself in the midst of a huge pivot back into the restroom. Courage started to fill me up from the inside out as I headed for the corner. What do I say???  I prayed God would give me the words.

    “Can I give you a hug?” came out of my mouth.

    She nodded yes and sunk into my arms weeping. She held on tight as she cried for over 30 seconds. Then, I looked into her eyes and delivered the message, “God wants you to know you are loved, and that you’re not alone. He sent me over here with that message for you.”

    Her eyes filled with more tears, and she began crying again. She took a deep breathe, grabbed hold of my hands, and started to speak.

    “My mom died this year. It’s been really hard. We were really close. And I just got off the phone with my dad who is sick and is refusing to go to the doctor. He’s so stubborn… and I’m … I’m so frustrated. I can’t lose both my parents this year. I feel so alone.” The tears welled up again.

    Suddenly the words God gave made so much sense. I repeated them to her. You are loved, and you’re not alone. You are loved, and you’re not alone.

    She held my hands tight as we talked more about her family. I assured her God hasn’t forgotten about her – as evidenced by him sending a complete stranger in an airport restroom with a special message just for her. I gave her one last hug and headed out to pick up my car in awe of getting to be a part of something so special -> a God-moment.

    Moments like these can arise in the most seemingly mundane of times: at home doing laundry and speaking with your child when the conversation turns deep, in the car running errands when you feel a prompting to call a friend, or even with a stranger in an airport restroom.

    Because God is in our everyday moments. And sometimes He gives us the privilege of getting to be a special part of his divine plan.

    It only requires tuning-in and acting (and a bit of courage to listen to that little voice… you know the one that you can’t shake even when it may not make logical sense or might make you look like a crazy person).

    “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up.” 1 Thessalonians 5:1

    You’ll never regret listening to God’s voice, getting to be a part of His plan, and getting to lift others up.

    Who is God impressing on your heart today? Make that phone call. Say those encouraging words. Be part of that God-moment.

     

     

     

     

  • A Poem Of Thanks This Good Friday

    How did it feel
    To leave perfection
    To come from heaven
    To face rejection?

    How did it feel
    To know what was coming
    The trial, the judgment,
    The abuse and the shunning?

    How did it feel
    Asking your dear friends to pray
    And finding them napping
    Unable to stay awake?

    How did it feel
    To wait for the day
    When one you discipled
    Would be one who betrayed?

    How did it feel
    To hang on that cross
    Knowing at any moment
    You could have come off?

    How did it feel
    Looking into your mother’s eyes
    Seeing her pain
    As she watched you die?

    How did it feel
    To be raised from the dead
    Knowing death had been defeated
    Through the blood you shed?

    How did it feel
    To be reunited
    To be back in heaven
    With God Almighty?

    Jesus we thank you
    For a heart filled with grace
    A love so deep
    You willingly took our place

    – Kristin Aaron

  • Grace for the Holiday Griever (Part 3 of 3)

    Receiving Grace (Part 3 of “Grace for the Holiday Griever” blog series)

    No amount of presents under the tree or holiday glad tidings could fill the void. Everything seemed immaterial. It was our first Christmas without our son, and life felt empty and hallow.

    During this time, God revealed his deep love for the grieving heart.

    It showed up in special cards from people who hadn’t forgotten. In nurses who had cared for Jenson calling to let us know they miss him and love our family. In family members who honored our son with donations to organizations committed to finding a cure for the disease that took his life. In friends reaching out to say, “We love you and are praying for you this holiday season.”

    These seemingly small gestures made a world of difference because they represented something every griever needs to remember: You’re not alone on this journey.

    God sees you. He hears your cry for mercy. And He wants to comfort your hurting heart.

    Grace breathes light and life into darkness. Birthed out of unconditional love on Christmas day many years ago, this gift forever changed the course of life.

    “In this world there will be trouble but do not fear for I have overcome the world.”                        – Jesus

    As you grieve your loved one this holiday season, lean into the only one who can provide lasting light and life. A Savior who wants to wrap his arms around you and gently whisper, “I know your pain. I love you and your broken heart.”

    Receive this unconditional gift, and let it breathe life into your heart this holiday season.

    I am here for you

    I have been here since the beginning

    You matter

    I know you

     

    My love is beyond reason

    Impossible to contain

    Possible to receive

    I love you

     

    My love is unconditional

    Nothing can make me stop loving you

    I will never leave you

    I am love

     

    I know you

    I love you

    I am love

    I AM

  • Finding Your Unique Purpose

    The woman directly in front of me in aerobics class collapsed to the ground. I stood motionless in my white Reebok high tops shocked and conflicted – wishing I could help but knowing I’d do more harm than good. Another woman in our class moved with command towards the woman on the floor. She began giving CPR. If only I’d paid more attention in the lifeguard training class I took years before. The ambulance would arrive five minutes later, and the paramedics would comment the woman who administered CPR saved a life that day.

    This event would become my college speech class topic. I started out a bundle of nerves but once I got beyond myself, I passionately shared how normal moments can flip upside down in an instant. We either stand helpless as I did that day or we can step in and save a life. Over half the class would get CPR certified.

    Recently I got to speak to a group of 550 children’s healthcare providers to encourage them to be a bright spot in the lives of their patients. As I stood on that stage sharing our story, that amazing feeling of “I’m doing EXACTLY what I was created to do” overwhelmed my spirit again.

    And to make things even sweeter, on the same day I made that speech my husband Douglas also got a job offer that is a perfect fit for his passion.

    Have you ever experienced knowing you’re doing exactly what God designed you for? It’s the elusive feeling many long for but often fear moving towards. Status quo feels safer and at times seems easier.

    Here are 3 key ingredients for anyone thinking about making a big, bold life change:

    01.  Clarity

    Before you take a huge leap, you need some clarity to “find your why”. I’m not talking every single detail spelled out in Times New Roman bold font on a perfectly pulled together frame-able powerpoint file.

    What you’re looking for is something much simpler: high level clarity on your natural strengths, passions, and interests. Shoot for a goal of spending 80%+ of your future time doing things you enjoy.

    For me, getting clarity on my “why” started several years ago with some “what” questions:

    • At the end of my life, what do I want to be remembered for?
    • What are my unique God given gifts?
    • What gives me energy and what drains me?

    Inspiring growth through words is my personal mission. Once I had that statement written down, the future started to get clearer as writing, speaking, and encouraging others to grow naturally fit into it. Friends and family who know me best confirmed… yes, that sounds like you.

    For my husband Douglas, he loves cars. He enjoys anything with an international vibe. He’s a good listener and likes helping people. For years he’s struggled to figure out what to do career wise. Nothing seemed like the right fit.

    Then one random day nine months ago he said, “I think I might enjoy selling European cars.” The light bulb went off. Of course! How had we not seen this ten years earlier? We would mention it to friends and family and one consistent line keep coming back – “That is a great fit.”

    Like a pair of well tailored pants, you look and feel your best when you’re wearing something that fits you properly.

    02.  Courage

    For my fellow planners out there, this word can stir up the heebie jeebies. We plan, contingency plan, and then develop contingency plan B, C, and D. But you can’t be courageous if you spend all your time planning behind a desk and never move.

    “Beyond the fear lies everything we want.” — Benno Dorer

    Real courage comes from resting in the confidence where God guides, He will provide. Stepping out without all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. Moving towards the future.

    You’ll never get to a new destination with your feet super-glued to the ground. At some point you have to jump.

    Phil Knight founder of Nike put it this way in his book “Shoe Dog”:  “I was following a path that felt like my path, and though I wasn’t sure where it would lead, I was ready to find out.”

    Even though we rarely know exactly where the path will take us, unless you step out you’ll never be on your way to a different future.

    03.  Community

    As you move towards something new, you’ll be best served to become a student again. Learn, learn, learn. Mastery comes from new knowledge and lots and lots and lots of practice (did I mention practice?).

    Who can become a new mentor or guide on your journey? Who can become a new friend pursuing something similar that you can connect with monthly to share ideas, lighten the learning curve, get feedback?

    “Two are better than one, for they have good return for their labor.”  Ecclesiastes 4:9

     

    You can make a change with some clarity, courage, and community to support you along the way. Find your why.

     

  • Enough With the Fear Factor

    “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasures you seek.”     — Joseph Campbell

    Fear can hold us back from some of the most exhilarating joy we’ll ever experience.  Fear whispers lies at us:

    “You can’t do that.”

    “Who do you think you are?”

    “Don’t even bother.  You’ll just fail.”

    Like a bully at the playground, fear pounces just as we get the courage to try something new like the monkey bars.  Fear taunts reminding us we feel uncomfortable.  Out of control.  Inexperienced.  It tries to bind us up like a steer roped in a rodeo and hold us back from doing things we really love.

    One thing I’ve always loved is music.  Powerful music cuts straight through to the heart.  My brain stores lyrics like novels of poetry.  Songs bring out the emotions of different seasons of life like a rallying cry to persevere when facing adversity, stay strong when feeling beaten down, or breakthrough on the journey to freedom.

    I’d sing in the shower, the car, in the aisles of Target, but definitely NOT in front of a group of people.  Maybe with a choir where I could hide out in the background.  But definitely not solo.  I’m no “Voice” contestant.  And who wants a spotlight highlighting your every vulnerable note as bunch of people stare you down and make you feel naked?

    I’d always admired people who had the courage to get up on a stage and pour out their heart through music.  I even gave it a brief try in a work band when we lived in Australia.  Then I got scared again.

    Fast forward eight years.

    A couple months after our son Jenson passed away, I decided enough is enough with the fear factor.  What’s the worst that could happen?  Massive embarrassment or failure?  While not pleasant, not life threatening either.

    So my daughter Sydney and I joined the kids worship team at our church.  I started in the background, and now can lead a weekend service for the kids.  Dancing, singing, and helping kids worship God.  A powerful, purposeful rush and something I’m honored to be a part of.  But it never would have happened without a courage pill.

    What is that thing you’ve always wanted to do or try?

    Maybe you’ve dreamed of owning your own business.  Maybe you’ve always wanted to travel abroad.  Or coach your child’s sports team.  Or start a blog. Or speak in front of a group.  Or start a non-profit.

    Whatever “that thing” is for you, take that first step.  Do it scared.  Body slam that fear to the ground.  Don’t let fear win.  Claim victory and discover a hidden treasure on the other side of fear.

  • A Message of Love

    From the board outside my daughter’s school with her name flashing in recognition for the leadership award she’d won, my car was drawn like a magnet to the last place I saw my other child Jenson.  His gravesite.

    I sat on the ground next to his tombstone, my way in this world of being as close to him as possible, feeling torn between the dichotomies love brings your way:  the joy of seeing your child excel, the sadness of watching them stumble, the thrill of small parenthood victories like getting them to eat any vegetable, and the agony of defeat when despite every effort you can’t always shield them from the harsh realities of this world.

    Jenson was only three when he passed away.  Nothing could stop the horrible disease eating away at his body.  And nothing could stop the love oozing from his soul.  A love so appreciative, so expressive, so pure that not even the nastiest of diseases could dim its glow.  He constantly expressed it through hugs, kisses, and the sweetest words of all – “I love you!”.

    I remember at Jenson’s funeral just before they lowered his tombstone into the ground.  My friend Tammy gave me a tube of lipstick.  “This is so you can give him one more kiss,” my friend Tammy said.  Someone had given her a tube of lipstick also at her son’s funeral.

    I replayed the memory of putting on that lipstick, kissing his casket, and marking my love for him on the most difficult of days.  The emotions of grief are always close to the surface, and they flooded back.  Emptiness.  Sadness.  Being ripped apart.  A heart so broken I wondered how it would ever heal or even keep beating.

    While the memory of Jenson’s love is alive and well, in that moment yesterday I longed to FEEL it again… to experience it without the barrier of distance.

    I lifted up my head and saw a red heart balloon rising from the ground 100 feet in front of me.  It seemed to appear from out of nowhere.  A red heart balloon.  I see you.  I love you.

    red balloon

    I was so in awe, it took me a while before I realized I had to get a picture of it.  If you look closely, you can see it in the middle above the bright beam of sunlight.

    Perhaps this balloon isn’t just for me.  Perhaps it’s also for you too.  A “LOVE” message from a loved one who has gone before you as we approach this Valentine’s Day.

    I see you.  I love you now and always. 

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  • Choosing Joy

    “Mommy will be ok.  I’ll figure out how to live joyfully like Jenson.”

    It’s a promise to my sweet boy that is always harder to keep on May 8 (the day he passed away).  And on Mother’s Day.  This year May 8 is Mother’s Day … a perfect collision of every dichotomy.  A day to celebrate.  A day to grieve.  A day to be thankful for moms.  A day moms mourn the loss of a precious child.  A day filled with immense beauty and depths of sorrow.

    My daughter Sydney gave me a Mother’s Day gift this morning.  It’s a picture of two words.  Two words that are simple to say but hard to live out.  It was like God sent a lightning rod straight through to my grieving heart.

    Choose joy. 

    A reminder from my God.

    A reminder from my girl.

    A reminder from my boy.

    choose joy syd pic

    A reminder to anyone who has loved and lost this Mother’s Day to choose joy.

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  • Give and Take

    We are good for each other and to each other.  A friend of mine recently texted me this message.  We both lost our sons, we both have dealt with health related issues affecting our families for years, and we both have a tendency in friendships to default to giving rather than receiving.

    Giving comes naturally to me.  Whether it’s encouraging a friend, mentoring someone in need, or supporting people through their darkest moments, it’s such a gift to be able to help others.

    But sometimes life strips you to the core.  It leaves you on empty with nothing left to pour out.

    “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the sun.” – Ecclesiastes 3:1

    When a season of brokenness hits, that’s when true friends pour into you expecting nothing in return.  They are there to pray.  To cry.  To laugh.  To listen.  To be.

    As my friend and I received each other’s support through these times, we experienced the natural ebb and flow of giving AND receiving that occurs in healthy relationships.

    And we learned an important life lesson – it’s just as important to receive as it is to give.

    When one person does all the giving, guess who you tend to attract as friends?  Takers. With takers, any good deed always comes with strings.  Takers don’t do relationships, because they’re only interested in what is best for them.  There is one word for these types of friendships.  Toxic.

    But friendships built on a natural flow of give and take can become safe havens.  A place where we can experience community.  A place of trust and mutual respect.  Friendships deepen as you walk together through whatever life brings.

    “Close friends are truly life’s treasures. Sometimes they know us better than we know ourselves. With gentle honesty, they are there to guide and support us, to share our laughter and our tears. Their presence reminds us that we are never really alone.” ― Vincent van Gogh

    I’m thankful for deep friendships where “we are good to each other and good for each other”.

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  • Less is More

    This year I’m on a mission to embrace a new equation.

    –    =   +

    Less is more.

    It won’t be easy.  It involves breaking years of engrained habits – habits that started out with positive intent.  But too much of a good thing became like an anchor to my soul.

    “Sure, I can do it.” 

    “No problem, happy to help.”  

    “Ok.  I’ll find the time.”

    Add more.  Take on more.  Do more.

    +   +   +

    More was better until:

      Life became more about powering through the day than being in it.

     Life became a series of tasks to check off the list versus a series of moments to enjoy.

    Life became so full that I felt empty.

    God never intended us to live life so full that it weighs us down.   “For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” – Matthew 11:30

    Life can be lighter when we shed the load that was never ours to carry in the first place.

    This is the year of the minus sign for me.  It means greater use of a simple two letter word that begins with a “N” and ends with an “O”.  It means focusing on being fully present in fewer things.

    Life can be “fuller” when it’s not so full.   🙂

    Less is more.

         –  =  +

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  • Good… love… light…

    I felt it immediately when I walked in the room.

    The day was finally here – a day I’ve been eagerly looking forward to and scared silly about for months.  I would be sharing our story with the ladies of Life Fellowship (my home church).  Our story is heartbreaking yet inspiring in how Jenson lived with such joy despite so much pain.  Even in his darkest hour in the hospital, he was thinking of others and wanted to send another little boy going through a bone marrow transplant a monkey to cheer him up.  His simple statement “I need send him a monkey” inspired us to start sending smiles to other Histio families in need through Monkey Grins.

    The question lingered in my mind: Would I be able to share our story, have moments of tears, and recover to continue telling our story?  Or would the pain of grief leave me crippled? 

    I knew I couldn’t do this in my own strength.

    As I entered the room, I was surrounded by monkey centerpieces on each table, balloons (orange, blue, and white), lolli-pops, handmade monkey cookies, and a group of over ten women (and countless behind the scenes men) serving and setting everything up for a fabulous evening.  I could feel a sense of peace and Jenson’s generous spirit throughout the room.  I hugged my friend Tatum who planned the event and started crying.  “This room is filled with Jenson.”  Tears rolled down her cheeks too.

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    Our worship pastor Nathan opened with a song “Forever Reign”.  It was the same song Doug and I picked to be played at Jenson’s funeral.  This song seems to show up whenever I really need an encouraging word.

    It first made a big appearance when we were living in California.  We were driving into San Francisco for Jenson’s chemo appointments.  We would cross the bay bridge on our way to and from our home in Oakland.  As we journeyed home one day after a particularly troubling chemo appointment, a song played in the car.  The lyrics talk about how God is good, love, light, hope, peace, joy, and life.

    As the song played, Jenson sat strapped in his black Britax car seat singing a few of the key words.  Good… love… light… hope… peace… joy… life.  I would blog later that day about our appointment that morning where the doctors found the first tumor in Jenson’s skull, and how Jenson inspired me that day:

     

    November 9, 2010 (on www.jensonsjourney.blogspot.com)

    …”We go to UCSF in the city to see his oncologist, so we have to cross the bay bridge on the way there and back. I’ve noticed I always cry on the way home as we cross the bridge. Yesterday was no exception as the tears rolled down my face. We had a song by Hillsong on (I’ve added it to my playlist) and Jenson was back there singing the last word of most of the lyrics (good … see … hope). One of the lines is “You are peace, you are peace, when my fear is crippling. You are joy, you are joy, you’re the reason that I sing.” Once again, God is using my little boy to teach me about life. How to let the pain and worry go and appreciate the incredible blessings he’s given us.”

    Pastor Nathan had no idea this was the song we had played at Jenson’s funeral.  Or that this song reminded me of an important truth in 2010 at a time when I desperately needed it.

    But God knew.  He knew I needed a reminder five years ago when we found the first tumor in Jenson’s skull.  He knew I needed a reminder three years ago when Jenson passed away.  And He knew I would need a reminder again on the night of “Inspire” to “let the pain and worry go and appreciate the incredible blessings he’s given us”.

    Jenson’s spirit continues to inspire, and God continues to give me the strength to face things I never dreamed possible with an unwavering belief in his truth.

    Good… love… light… hope… peace… joy… life

     

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  • Struggling to Fly

    In the midst of our grief when Jenson passed away, something new started showing up constantly.  Butterflies.  I’d never really paid much attention to butterflies before the rainstorm of crushing grief saturated our life.  But they started to become a theme even a mom knee deep in grief couldn’t ignore.

    One day as I was working through the grief with my counselor Mary, I shared with her my new found fascination with butterflies.

    “Well you know the story of the butterfly right?” she asked.

    “I know they start as caterpillars and then build cocoons and are transformed into butterflies, is that what you mean?”  I asked curiously.

    “No, I mean the story of the butterfly and how it gets strong enough to fly,” she responded.

    Now this session just got interesting.

    Mary would go on to share the story of the butterfly.  Most of us learned in biology class the butterfly starts as a caterpillar crawling on the ground, builds a cocoon and then goes through the metamorphosis.  But what many people don’t know is to emerge from the cocoon, the butterfly has to go through the struggle.

    “The struggle?  Say more,” I listened intently as Mary continued to share.  I knew in my heart God wanted me to hear something on this lesson so grabbed my small pink notebook out of my purse ready to take notes.

    Mary continued with the story of the butterfly.  The butterfly has to struggle to get out of the cocoon.  In fact, if someone tries to help the butterfly out early, it will never fly because it’s wings aren’t strong enough and it’s body isn’t slim enough to be airborne.  The struggle to be freed from the cocoon is what makes the butterfly’s wings strong and helps it’s body transform into it’s new shape. Without the struggle, it could never fly.

    Tears flooded over me.  Without the struggle, it could never fly.  The struggle (which often seems like pain without purpose) is the very thing that once we break through allows us to soar to new heights.

    “But we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope …”   Romans 5:3

    In that moment, I thought back to so many times in life where I’d struggled.  And let’s be honest – I wasn’t doing much rejoicing. More like impatience to move to the next phase.  But while incredibly painful to struggle through tough times, working through the struggles was the very thing that produced the most growth.

    You see just like the butterfly, without the struggle we could never fly.  So don’t be afraid to struggle … you may be about to take flight.

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